Chapter 17
The Church's Shadow
Abbot Kale arrives, his patience finally exhausted, his face a mask of grim determination. He reveals the Church's true intentions: not to bring 'evil' to light, but to eradicate any perceived threat to their authority, including Bishop Dark himself, should he defy them. The hunter is now the hunted, his loyalty to the Church irrevocably broken. The sacred mission has devolved into a brutal power play, and Bishop realizes he’s been a pawn in a much larger, darker game orchestrated by those he once served.
The familiar stench of stale ale and desperation clung to Abbot Kale’s cassock like a second skin, a scent Bishop Dark had come to associate with impending doom or, at the very least, a colossal headache. This time, however, it was the grim set of Kale’s jaw and the cold, hard glint in his eyes that truly sent a shiver down Bishop’s spine. The Abbot, a man usually prone to theatrical sighs and veiled threats, stood before him like a statue carved from pure, unadulterated disapproval.
"Bishop," Kale’s voice was a low rumble, devoid of its usual unctuous charm. "We need to discuss your... methods."
Bishop took a long, slow drag from his pipe, the cherry glowing like a defiant ember in the dim tavern light. "My methods get the job done, Abbot. You know this. Cheaper than anyone else, too. Unless you prefer the skin grafts, of course." He winked, a gesture that earned him nothing but a tightening of Kale’s already formidable frown.
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